Flurry of Last-Minute Activity

Two weeks left and feeling it. Keats is doing Tai Chi in preparation while Birch and I finish up all those last-minute details and try to ignore the strange last-minute bodily annoyances of a 9-month pregnant lady (of which there are many).

We’ve planted a few more flowers and herbs in the garden and Birch is gearing up for next month when he can finally plant his vegetable seeds and we can put together Keats’ bean tepee. We’ll have summer squashes, beans, peas, tomatoes, peppers, and artichokes this year.

My mom and sister took me to do some last-minute shopping including a new car seat and other things necessary for the week or two after Keats is born. Birch and I took his car to get a thorough cleaning inside and out so that we can sell it and then we snagged some ribs for dinner later. Delicious, by the way. I scarfed them down so fast!

We drove down to Santana Row to try and find some presentable pants for me to wear to our maternity shoot the next morning and I remembered why I hate it there so much. Seriously, that place is pretty much my version of a circle of Hell. Not sure which, but it’s in there and buddy’s flappin’ his wings nearby. Granted, going shopping on a Saturday afternoon was not the smartest idea ever, but that place is pure madness and crawling with some of the most self-involved shoppers ever. I was literally pushed out of the way a couple of times and later stepped in dog poo right outside Urban Outfitters. I mean, seriously? You really didn’t think it was necessary to pick that up? Ick. Oh, and while I was standing in line for the fitting room at Anthropologie a lady behind me asked me flat out why I was wasting my time trying on pants. They “obviously” weren’t going to fit. I was glad Birch was waiting outside. That would not have gone well. So yeah, Santana Row has reaffirmed my love for online clothes shopping.

Sunday was maternity shoot day. The city was beautiful and after our shoot Birch and I walked around the Botanical Gardens for another two hours. Correction: I waddled, Birch walked. We took a short “nap” on a bench in the sun and all was right with the world once again, the stain of Santana Row washed away by magnolia blossoms.

Monday reminded me why I don’t go for long walks anymore. I could barely move around the apartment but that’s why YouTube was developed, right? Poirot, Miss Marple, and Inspector Morse kept me company and I realized once again how much Morse really bothers me. I mean, is there ever an episode where he doesn’t hit on someone? Especially witnesses and even suspects! So unprofessional. Haha.

So, with fifteen days before the due date left, Birch and I still have a few things to do: put together the labor bag, do our taxes, launder the baby things, get my car thoroughly washed, install the car seat, and clean the place up like it’s never been cleaned before. That last one is starting to feel more and more dubious everyday as my energy and physical prowess dwindles with each passing moment, but I’m determined to at least get the bedroom tip-top and the kitchen spotless. If we can do those two things I will be very happy.

I am so excited for the baby to be in my arms. It’s hard to wait now, it’s so close! Birch and I enjoy the contact we have with little Keats, but it just can’t compare with what we know is coming. Once again Miriam and Ben have come to our emotional rescue. Some people still insist on letting us know how hard having a baby is, but Ben and Miriam help us to see what we already know: it’s worth it and it’s better than being pregnant. Pregnancy is a strange thing—it’s a waiting game, a process with a very definite goal in the end. Without that ending, the past nine months seems cruel and pointless. Perhaps not pointless but most decidedly cruel. To feel that baby’s fingers wrap around one of your own, to hear it coo and even scream, to begin to understand the meaning behind its expressions and various noises—all of it is magical and beautiful, no matter how hard life has become because of it. Because “it” was the point. We planned this. We wanted this. We knew it would be hard but we knew with an even greater certainty that we wanted the challenge in order to have the reward—to have the child. We wanted a child and now we are so close to seeing his face. Not with a machine but with nothing but our eyes. How incredible it will all be. How completely worth everything that has and will be hard. How completely complete.